[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/mVDvG7tn/Coach-House-Cellar-Secret.jpg[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.ibb.co/vXD6Q0t/Update-Text.png[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [center][hider=Coach House][img]https://i.ibb.co/BVvx6LH2/Coach-House.jpg[/img][/hider][/center] [center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [u]Weather[/u]: The clouds are gathering a bit more now, officially forcing us into the realm of party cloudy. The sky has the look of that increasing to mostly cloudy as the afternoon passes along. The warmest part of the day (that being a relative statement for this time of the year) is passing and the wind carries notes of dampness along with increasing cloud cover. [u]Time[/u]: Late afternoon. It is well into "Tea Time," and possibly beyond, considering discussions being had and tasks being performed. If time passes too much more, the guests might as well stay for supper. [u]Ambience[/u]: The hearthfire within the Taproom burns moderate to low - not the best for lighting the room but just perfect for bringing water to a smooth boil. Various candles and grape oil lamps are available for use if one wants extra lighting. Aside from this, the Taproom remains as it has been for the past several weeks. Flat, grey stone tiles form a level, even floor, which is simply and tastefully furnished with wooden tables and chairs. While they are not elaborately decorated, the furnishings are undoubtedly well constructed, with nary a wobble nor creak to be heard from their use. A bar runs most of the length of one wall, stopping to allow access to the kitchen door. Behind said bar are the stairs going down to the cellar, behind its own closed door, and atop the bar are two large casks; one contains a large amount of very fine, several decades aged brandy, the other a somewhat less amount of local ale. Several bottles of different varieties of wine can be found here, as well as all of the accoutrements necessary for uncorking, decanting, and sipping the finely crafted fermented experiences. The kitchen's fireplace burns low. Not much being done here past storage, as the present meal is assembled fully in the Taproom, but the equipment is available for anyone who may wish to use it. All throughout the rooms, kitchen and taproom both, the scent of aromatic wood and grapeseed oil permeates, along with slight sour notes of potent potables that never truly washes out of a well used tavern. Outside, the first flurries of snow flutter down on uncertain winds. The temperature has shifted downward over the last hour, and it looks like there might be a little more weather when the pale sun rests for the evening. [center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] Tarace Mosswater stepped down from the chair he required to open the door. It was a touch stuck, likely from some improper use of a latch on their way in, and the leverage was needed for the cheerful fellow to open the door where a taller person might not have had an issue. The struggles of a Halfling in a Human structure are many and varied, apparently. The sudden, if quiet gruffness of their newest arrival took him slightly aback. [color=darkgray][i]"Oh, ah, Urmdrus, old boy. Good to see you, I'm sure."[/i][/color] Tarace's manners remained as genteel as ever; just not his enthusiasm at the new arrival. [color=darkgray][i]"Oh my,"[/i][/color] he exclaimed, [color=darkgray][i]"flurries about."[/i][/color] Urmdrus regarded him with narrowed eyes until he explained, [color=darkgray][i]"Snow flurries. Come along, let's get you nearer to the fire. Do you take tea? I'd quite forgotten."[/i][/color] Tarace was ever the personal caretaker. Barbal, on the other hand, was more of a social pragmatist. He dropped a couple bits of edible foodstuffs onto a small plate and nudged a chair nearish to the fire with his boot. The two looked at each other for a second, followed by the older Dwarf nodding and accepting the plate. Urmdrus removed his heaviest toolbelt and settled into the chair with a muted, [color=darkgray][b]"Thank. You."[/b][/color] The common tongue of the continent still didn't settle smoothly in him. His bag of goodies slumped to the floor with a clattering noise. Whatever lay within was not as immediate a priority as warming up. Aside from showing the bare minimum of courtesy to a guest, even if technically Urmdrus was a guest of the adventurers and not himself, persay, Barbal did act with something akin of graciousness when Baronfjord addressed him. [color=darkgray][b]"To what do we owe? We had an arrangement for us to join you for Tea today. Talk things over. Share what we know."[/b][/color] He looked a little frustrated. [color=darkgray][i]"Oh, and the sausages..."[/i][/color] meekly added Tarace, his hand pausing halfway in the air as if he might have been requesting permission to speak. [color=darkgray][b]"Yeah, yeah. And the sausages."[/b][/color] The annoyed Halfling brought up a reed basket from among his bundle of belongings, the contents of which were wrapped with homespun cloth. He lifted a corner of the cloth to reveal bundles of tube-shaped, speckled, off-white forcemeat which bore slightly acidic notes. [color=darkgray][b]"Ankheg's done aging. Good hard sausage, lots of herbs, and some of those Rentman family peppers. Boil 'em in beer for a treat. Otherwise, they'll last you through 'til summer. We gave the rest of the shell to their fellow, Urmdrus, here."[/b][/color] He said it like it was the most natural, fully expected thing in the world. [color=darkgray][b]"But yeah, put on that pot o' tea. It's why we're here."[/b][/color] The Mosswaters gave polite, monosyllabic sounds to Victoria's appraisal of Halfling cuisine, even if Tarace's was something like an [color=darkgray][i]"Aw,"[/i][/color] and Barbal's was more like an [color=darkgray][b]"Eh."[/b][/color] Though the latter did follow with an only mildly sarcastic, [color=darkgray][b]"Yeah, get you that tea, soon as someone gets the damned water ready."[/b][/color] He let it hang for a moment before returning to his spread of yummy things. The application of brandy and wine to the table by means of Kathryn's efforts was not overlooked, particularly by Tarace Mosswater. While not a heavy drinker, he seemed to gravitate toward wine, as opposed to ale or the harder stuff. Barbal took a small sip from his own cup of brandy and gave a shrug, then a grudging nod toward the bottles. [color=darkgray][b]"Don't care of it's random bottles behind the bar. There's something about every wine from this vineyard that's compelling."[/b][/color] Urmdrus still hadn't explained what he was doing there, aside to show up with a sack full of goods which he still hadn't opened yet. He spoke very little, giving gestures or tight-lipped smiles which were obviously forced at each of the greetings given to him, even that from Lizbeth. Firelight danced in his eyes for a moment as he stared into the hearth, seeming to rouse suddenly to say, [color=darkgray][b]"No brandy for me. Bad dreams. Bad dreams."[/b][/color] The Dwarf held his small plate in one hand and absently shoved one of the tea sandwiches into his mouth. [color=darkgray][b]"Good. This, good."[/b][/color] Not to be put off by the odd sights before her, at least not any more than she had been by the odd state of being [i]herself[/i] possible efforts to the contrary, Lizbeth attempted to keep optimistic and/or useful despite the recently passed horror downstairs. [color=darkgray]"Oh, Knight Kathryn, I make sure not to do... the things I might be able to do during our training! That would be cheating myself, right?"[/color] Lizbeth had mentioned a while back that she wanted something to fall back upon that wasn't this magical curse/blessing/adventuring profession. Being able to defend herself with steel and chitin was a valuable backup, even if she was physically weaker. Lizbeth did pay special attention to Victoria. The idea that she could not use Ritual Magic herself was a bit disheartening, but she understood. Not everybody did this the same way, and she knew that Victoria could really only teach her ideas, lessons in Arcana, fundamentals of Magic, not actual, practical spellcraft the way she did it. But there came a time in ritual preparation when things became repetitive, which is when Lizbeth started to look into the things she had brought up. Firstly, she moved a stack of journals and the like over to Baronfjord, who had asked for them. The writing was scrawled in a lot of places, sometimes to the point of being unreadable, but it was mostly in Common and much of it was legible. She then returned to Victoria's table and looked over the haul from downstairs, particularly the hollowed crystal that looked like a pendant and the scroll case. Within the case was a shard of black obsidian, wrapped to one side with silvery wire. She had cut her finger on it earlier. There was also a paper. Strangely, it was addressed to her. She cradled the crystal pendant in one hand while unrolling the paper on the table with the other. Her mouth formed words which echoed some of the print she stared at, giving hint as to its contents. [color=darkgray]"Offerings of fine wine, gold, grapes, and horses."[/color] That last part seemed to stall Lizbeth. Why horses? [color=darkgray]"Taken without question and I was gifted the things in this box - Hey, it says here that they would respond to those with a history in the sands or who have been touched by death. But, it's not like we found any horses down there, right?"[/color] This was partly read by Lizbeth, and partly a rhetorical observation. [color=darkgray]"But why would Grandfather give a dead guy wine and horses? That makes no sense. Oh! I think this part is about me! Maybe."[/color] She cleared her throat and read, [color=darkgray]"I put my blood into the Well, but it didn't do any good. I believe that one with a magical bloodline can make it function, and for good or bad, it must go to my only surviving heir."[/color] There was a lot more in the letter, but she didn't get the chance to verbalize any of it. Lizbeth let out a gasp as the cut on her hand started to bleed anew. A thread of bright crimson arced from the minuscule injury, to the irregular piece of hollow crystal like a disembodied serpent on a staggering mission. She was too shocked to move, to toss the crystal, to place the cut to her mouth - and as the blood made contact with the shard, it glowed in the same manner as the arcane circle in the hidden study, below. It was magic which involved blood, now the altered blood of the L'Rose lineage. Lizbeth looked to Victoria, and said flatly, [color=darkgray]"That cache was what Grandfather was talking about. I'll give you pick from it if you can tell me what this is [i]first[/i]."[/color] From the look of things which littered the table and/or lay in neat organization, there was be plenty to go around that had nothing to do with that cache. The hollow crystal was now full, and seemed to pulse with life that matched Lizbeth's heartbeat. She could tell this, because it was presently hammering inside of her skull.